


This Is Hell!

by Cerdic519



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, headphones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:57:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley discovers both hell and heaven at the bunker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Hell!

Crowley stared at the item in the box Castiel had left him, as if he had never seen anything quite like it before. He slowly reached out his hand, unable to believe it was real, before gently slipping it on, and sighing in absolute contentment. After the hell he had been through in the past two weeks – and who knew more about hell than the former king? - this had to be heaven. The only slightly disconcerting thought was that he owed the angel one huge favor – but then again, the whole thing was partly Castiel's fault anyway.

And yours, an annoying voice at the back of his mind chipped in.

He hated being human. And he hated this conscience thing that nagged him like an old fishwife!

+~+~+

Being captured by those Winchester meatheads had been embarrassing enough, but he'd coped with that part. After all, in their line of business, they were bound to need his help sooner rather than later, especially with all their angel's feathered friends being shut out of heaven. Unfortunately they were bloody slow to realize that fact, during which time he got shut in the dungeon at their bunker. He'd been in worse places before, of course – quite a few of his own design, he was proud to say – but being human was a new kind of torture, one for which he simply hadn't been prepared. Leaving aside the bodily functions – euw! - what had made things so much worse was that damned angel.

Whilst the Winchesters pretty much left him alone except for the occasional check-up, the de-powered angel seemed to see it as his duty to help the former King of Hell adapt to humanity. And Crowley had discovered (embarrassingly late in the day, if he'd been forced to admit it) that it wasn't cruelty that broke you, but the small acts of kindness. So when the angel had managed to get partially re-powered up three weeks ago, he'd been surprised that it didn't seem to cheer him up. When he confronted him, Castiel had admitted that he'd been feeling he might be getting closer to Dean whilst a human, and now that would be lost. Which had led Crowley to do the Dreadful Thing.

He'd told Castiel that the elder Winchester was so emotionally constipated, he wouldn't know true love unless it walked up to him and kneed him in the groin. Castiel would just have to man up and tell him how he felt. Which the feather-brain promptly went upstairs and did.

Unfortunately, Crowley could not have known that, whilst he was having his fateful conversation with the angel, Sam Winchester, tired of his elder brother's interference in his life, was having an argument that would end in his storming from the bunker. So it was a more than usually fragile hunter who found himself having an angel confess his deepest desires to him less than five minutes later. The first Crowley knew about this was the definitive sounds of bumping and grinding, followed far too soon by what was definitely Dean's voice screaming out 'Cas!' in an unusually high-pitched tone. The demon grinned, glad that things were finally out in the open.

+~+~+

A few hours later, and that grin had faded. Apparently he'd forgotten to factor in that the re-powered angel had a virtually inexhaustible stamina, and boy, the two of them were both screamers! Worse, the dungeon might be 100% demon-proof, but the Men of Letters apparently hadn't thought it necessary to make it soundproof as well. And those two idiots seemed determined to do it in every room of the building. Crowley snarled his disapproval, but he was hardly in a position to complain.

+~+~+

Two weeks later, and he was almost at breaking-point. The bastards had moved from their two small rooms to share one large one which, thanks to Fate being a bitch of the first order, was directly above the dungeon. And Crowley now had a whole new line of torture drawn up, which he would be reserving for a select few of the nastier tyrants on Earth right now. Let them have to sit through what he'd suffered, and see how they liked it!

The worst thing was, he couldn't say anything. When the angel brought his meals down, he looked so supremely happy, Crowley's complaints died before they reached his lips. Until today. Which is why he was staring in disbelief at the box he had just opened, one that Castiel had brought down with his meal. 

Soundproof headphones. 100% soundproof headphones.

He slipped them on, and.... silence. For the first time, the King of Hell knew what heaven really felt like.


End file.
